


Head over Heels

by AaNnYyCcHhOoUu



Series: Head over Heels, over the Top and down the Rabbit Hole [1]
Category: Shameless (Podcast), Shameless (US)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Happy, Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich in Love, M/M, Romance, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Sweet, Sweet/Hot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 02:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30014955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AaNnYyCcHhOoUu/pseuds/AaNnYyCcHhOoUu
Summary: SUCCESSION OF ONE OFF SHORT OR TINY DRIBBLES.This work is part of the series called 'Head over Heels, Over the Top and down the Rabbit Hole'.The series is composed of 3 works:- 'Head over Heels' which is a succession of short sweet and fluffy pictures of the domestic life of Ian and Mickey- 'Over the top' which is a succession of short over the top stories. If it's too much it belongs there- Down the Rabbit Hole' which is a succession of short sad, ugly, dark dribble full of angst (TW will be indicated for each new story)Art attached is from @steorie, if you don't know her, check her up. It'll be worth your while!If you've got any idea that you would like me to put into words, hit me up!twitter: @anychouinsta: @anychouAnd as usual, kudos and comments are the fuel of the writer (and it's green energy so you can use and abuse it!)
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Head over Heels, over the Top and down the Rabbit Hole [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2208003
Kudos: 11





	1. The art of waking up happy

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is short and sweet. No smut but so much fluff you might get a sweet tooth off of it.
> 
> Enjoy! <3

> [I Fucking Love You](//imgur.com/a/Q3iWaZQ)

Ian felt cold and somehow incomplete, empty almost. Not a fucking great way to start the day. He growled. Not quite sure whether he did it out loud. He opened a shy eye, ready to get attacked by the light of day. Not happy, but ready.

The only thing that attacked him though was the deep of the night and the cold he felt creeping along his chest.

He wasn’t awake per say, but he was still aware enough to understand what was wrong and to do something about it. He closed back his eye in an attempt to push away consciousness and threw his hand haphazardly on the bed until he found what he was looking for. What he was missing. The object of his longing didn’t react at the lazy hand dropping on his flanks.

Mickey didn’t growl when Ian secured his hand on his stomach and roughly dragged him back in his embrace. Or at least Ian didn’t hear him. Would he have stopped if he had heard? Maybe not. Probably not. He deserved his sleep too after all!

Finally, FINALLY, Mickey was back where he belonged, flushed against him, heart quietly thump-thumping beneath his hand, flat on his chest. The sleeping man sighed at the return of contact, proving that even deep in Morpheus arms he was missing it too.

Mickey leaned back, shoving his head in Ian’s face. Right where it belonged. Ian nuzzled into Mickey’s nape, took a deep breath, let his husband smell envelop him. Once he was warm and complete again, Ian fell back into sleep in a matter of seconds.

The next time he woke up, Ian opened his eyes to the bright sunny light of a warm day of August in Chicago. The bed was empty, but somehow it didn’t disturb him that much. Instead of Cold he felt warm. Instead of incomplete he felt fuzzy. Instead of empty, he felt… hungry, maybe?

Oh, yeah, this is why he feels good, so good. He took a deep breath, his nostrils fluttering. Banana pancakes and coffee. His brain barely registered the smell that the door opened gently.

Mickey walked in the room, carrying a tray were a plate of pancakes, a bottle of Sunny D and a coffee were dangerously swaying. He made it to the bed, where Ian had sat up against the wall. He carefully sat and dropped the tray on his husband’s lap. They smiled at each other before Mickey put a wet and loud kiss on Ian’s lips.

“Mornin’ lover.”


	2. What that smile for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mickey smiles... its a new thing but he likes it!
> 
> Enjoy <3

> [I Fucking Love You](//imgur.com/a/Q3iWaZQ)

Mickey smiles. No reason. Well, none that comes to his mind really, but he lets it happen. Because he can.  
“The fuck’s that smile for?”  
Mickey looks at the man shrivelled in his medical chair. He shrugs and gets back to his task. He opens the microwave, takes the readymade meal plastic plate out and swears. That shit is hot. That shit looks absolutely disgusting. Oh well.

Mickey stirs what’s meant to be a chili with rice. He guesses, with a bit of imagination, it might actually, sort of, resemble that. Not that he cares much. He grabs a fork and brings the meal to his father, not bothering to put it in a proper plate.  
“Wipe that fucking smile off your face you pussy!”  
Mickey hadn’t even realised he was still smiling. Oh well.  
“Ya havin’ a ball watchin’ your old man in that fuckin’ chair, huh?! Fuckin’ faggot!”  
The thing with Terry is that he always, always knew how to push his kids’ buttons. And Mickey was no exception, getting infuriated by the man every time.   
But not this time. Mickey’s not sure why. He’s not sure he cares either. He’s here, providing for his impotent father, certainly much more than the old asshole ever provided for his family. Definitely much more. And he fucking smiles. And more importantly, he has no intention of stopping.

Now, Mickey’s been lying. To himself mainly. He knows where the smile comes from. He knows what triggers it. He even thinks that maybe he starts to get properly equipped to deal with it all.  
Mickey Milkovich is fucking happy.  
For the first time in his life, he’s in a place with no major drama, no life changing bowl of shit sent his way. The only one that can mess things up, is himself. And he really doesn’t intend to.  
“Whatever, what d’you want to drink? Water, coffee, …” He returns to the kitchen.  
“Whiskey, asshole, bring the bottle.”  
“Water it is!”  
Mickey fills out a glass and brings it to his father, drops it on the medical table next to the meal. Terry moves somewhat erratically and manages to tip the glass over, successfully shattering it on the floor.  
“Suit yourself, bitch.” Mick grabbed his backpack.  
“You leavin’? You gonna join that faggot bitch of yours. He gave you aids yet? Not smiling anymore now, are ya?!” Terry laughed. That same laugh that had kept Mickey on his toes his whole life. But not anymore.   
And yes, Mickey is still smiling. He can’t stop. It’s been a little over six months that he can’t stop.  
“You know what, dad?” He kneels in front of the chair and looks him in the eyes. He’d never realised before how pathetic his father is. Now it’s all he can see.  
“I’m smiling because I’m happy. You hear, huh?” He put his hands on Terry’s shoulders, just to keep him from slouching on his chair. Making sure there’d be eye contact for what’s coming next.  
“I’m happy because I married the man I love, and I wake up next to him every morning. We fuck in our bed, every fuckin’ day. And when we don’t fuck, we make love. It’s slow and its sweet and it’s so fuckin’ good that I can’t stop asking for it.” Terry doesn’t say anything, he looks at his son, disgust never leaving his face. But Mickey doesn’t care, he keeps saying his peace.  
“I’m happy and it’s not because of you, Terry, it’s despite you. I made it out of the shithole of despair you created for all of us. And I actually realised I don’t give a shit about you or what you think.”  
“Why you look after me then, shithead?” Terry’s angry now. Oh well…   
Terry doesn’t get it and it’s alright. Who cares, after all?  
“You don’t understand, do you? I don’t do shit for you. I do it for me. I look after you because I wanna be better than you. That means I gotta do what you never did. Take care of my family.”  
“Pussy!” Now Mickey’s laughing.  
“Nan. You’re the pussy. Never dared to love your family the way you should. It’s too late now. You gonna die alone.” He gives a look over at his father. “In your own piss. And no one’s gonna care.”  
“I’m gonna make sure you get fed and medicated until your time comes only because I don’t wanna regret it down the line.”  
Terry’s smugness has completely vacated his body. Mickey straightens himself, readjusts his backpack on his shoulder and heads to the door.  
“Nurse Jean should be here in half an hour. Be nice with her or you’re grounded.” The Brunette can’t repress a chuckle at the idea.  
“I don’t like her!”  
“No shit! She doesn’t like you either. No one does, Terry.”  
With that Mickey Milkovich steps onto the porch of his father’s house, hurries down the stairs and strolls up the street, feeling the urgency to get to his husband. He smiles. He smiles because he’s happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art attached is from @steorie, if you don't know her, check her up. It'll be worth your while!
> 
> If you've got any idea that you would like me to put into words, hit me up!  
> twitter: @anychou  
> insta: @anychou
> 
> And as usual, kudos and comments are the fuel of the writer (and it's green energy so you can use and abuse it!)

**Author's Note:**

> Art attached is from @steorie, if you don't know her, check her up. It'll be worth your while!
> 
> If you've got any idea that you would like me to put into words, hit me up!  
> twitter: @anychou  
> insta: @anychou
> 
> And as usual, kudos and comments are the fuel of the writer (and it's green energy so you can use and abuse it!)


End file.
